Sarabande
by J9
Summary: You were worried about him losing his balance, but you never realised you were losing yours too... (Grissom/Lady Heather, spoilers for LHB and SoLV)


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Title: Sarabande

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Author: Jeanine (jeanine@iol.ie)

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Rating: PG

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Pairing: Grissom/Lady Heather

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Spoilers: _Slaves of Las Vegas, Lady Heather's Box_. 

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Feedback: Makes my day

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Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.

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Archive: At my site Checkmate () , Fanfiction.net; anywhere else, please ask.

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Summary: You worried about him losing his balance, and didn't realise that you'd lost your own.

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Author's Notes: Written for the LiveJournal Writer's Choice "Loss" theme. Whither the title you might ask? In the late 90s, ice-dancers Torvill and Dean collaborated with cellist Yo-Yo Ma to produce the program "Six Gestures". They divided Bach's Sixth Suite into six distinct segments, each of which had a distinct gesture to go with it around which T&D based the choreography of their programs. The fourth such segment, the one which T&D performed on tour and in numerous professional competitions that year was _Sarabande_, and the gesture that went along with it was "Hand on face." Flash-forward to 2003, and me seeing the promo picture for _Lady Heather's Box_. I wanted to write a story with that as the title since then, and this has finally given me the opportunity!

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You're good at what you do, and you know it too. You live your life by a certain set of rules, but first among them is the rule that you told your daughter when you thought she was old enough to hear it. 

There are a lot of things you can give a man -- your body, your time, even your heart. But the one thing you can never, ever, ever let go of is your power.

Good advice, hard earned by you, and you've followed it, ever since Zoe's father ran out on you, leaving you broke and broken-hearted, with a baby on your hip. 

You've given men your body and your time in the past, always on your terms, by your choice. You've never met a man that you were even close to giving your heart to though, let alone your power. 

Until you met him. 

Twice, he's come to your domain, investigating the murders of people who worked for you. The first time, you talked of deviance and theatre, shared afternoon tea with fine china and linen. That's all you shared though. Then. 

The second time, he came back after the initial visit, came back on his own. You'd already noticed on the first visit that he was paying an inordinate amount of attention to your lips, and you didn't buy for a moment his flirty reply that you have lovely lips, although you know you do. 

He came back on his own, and you noticed it again, noticed how he kept you in proximity when you moved away. You realised what was happening, and you called him on it, asked him point blank if he was losing his hearing. 

He didn't reply to that directly, but he did tell you that he was losing his balance. Maybe that's why he reached towards you, putting his hands on your face. 

He told you that you could always say stop, but neither one of you did, not until much later, when you were once again sharing tea, you hoping that the ritual would put you both at ease, put him at ease. 

Because he was so concerned with keeping himself a mystery, because you'd given him your time, your body, perhaps a piece of your heart. You didn't give him your power though; instead, you shared it with him, allowing it to mingle with his. You shared yourself with him, as his equal, and you hoped that would be enough to overcome his deepest fear, the fear of being known. 

You knew him. You still do. 

Which is why you weren't surprised by what he did, but you were disappointed. Not just in him though. In yourself as well. 

You were so caught up with him, in him losing his balance that you didn't realise that you'd lost yours until he pulled the rug out from underneath you, sent you sprawling. 

You pulled yourself together, and you got through the interrogation with Brass, were even able to face him again when they came to your dominion, looking for Chloe. You were able to look at him when he said that he owed you an apology, but you know it doesn't matter, because apologies are just words, and there are no words that can undo what he did, no words to make the betrayal go away. 

Because the betrayal wasn't his alone, but yours as well, a betrayal of your most sacred beliefs. You lost your balance, forgot the lesson you learned so long ago, the lesson you drilled into Zoe, and all because of his hands on your face. 


End file.
